Mad World
by Consulting Squids
Summary: It's the aftermath of the events with Loki and despite being part of a team, Bruce has proven to himself how dangerous he truly is. The first time he tried to end his own life, it failed. Not this time. However, Tony Stark, despite having no clue what's going on in Dr. Banner's mind, has his own plans. Rating has gone up. TonyxBruce 'cos they're SCIENCE BOYFRIENDS.
1. Chapter 1

Well hello. I'll try to keep this bit short and sweet. This is my first fic in the Avengers fandom, so I hope it's okay. Currently T, may (and will probably) go up to M. Depends on how well I think I can write.

This will be dark, with mentions of failed suicide and possible future attempts. If that's a trigger for you, you may not wish to read this story. Also, in future chapters it _will_ contain m/m pairing. Don't like, don't read.

I don't own the characters. Nor do I own the actors. If I did I would have Fluffalo, RDJ and Hiddles in my closet.

Enjoy!

* * *

Bullets were not an option. Or at least not a solution on their own.

Bruce had put a bullet in his mouth once before and learned, to his devastation, it not only failed to kill him but managed to bring out the 'other guy', and with him, chaos to the outskirts of the town he had made his home. He had nearly killed someone. Again.

This plan had, obviously, failed, and it became clear to Bruce that he had to reevaluate the monster within him, because he had truly underestimated its presence and the speed at which it could be unleashed. It had taken less than a second, between when Bruce had pulled the trigger, to when it would have hit the roof of his mouth before tearing itself through his skull, to when the Hulk appeared, preventing any such event and instead spitting the tiny bullet out of its monstrous mouth before smashing everything in its path, as if to punish Bruce from even thinking of such a thing, let alone attempt it.

He realized not only that he had to reevaluate the Hulk, but find a far more effective way of getting the job done. There was, he believed, always a way to find closure; anything done could be undone, to some extent, at least. But there were side effects to everything, and just as old age is a side effect to living, there would be side effects to the end of the Hulk. Bruce had determined what it would mean to destroy the Hulk, and was very happy to accept his own death if it ensured the termination of the creature inside of him he so desperately longed to be rid of. It watched over his very move, hidden at the back of his mind. It tortured his every thought. He wanted to be nothing like the beast inside of him; wanted to have nothing to do with the monster he could become.

Months had passed since his first attempt and he knew that it would be pointless (and dangerous) to try again in the same way. He found seclusion and hid himself as far as he could get from the rest of the world. It was soon after he was able to mark the calendar on a one-year anniversary of his last destructive incident that Natasha Romanoff (and about two dozen 'hidden' SHIELD operatives) visited him.

For Bruce it was bad timing. He had been nearing the final stages; the last several days in fact, of preparing a serum he believed could simultaneously block his monstrous half while stopping his human heart. (Though he had planned to find a gun in case his heart put up as much a fight as he knew the monster would.)

For SHIELD it was perfect timing: Dr. Bruce Banner was alive and well, very capable of doing their bidding.

Bruce went along with it, mostly seeing it as one good deed he could do before he a.) broke another neighborhood or b.) had a chance to finish what he started. The Avengers were something, he hoped, that he could be remembered for. Something other than a deadly failed experiment, that is.

When the world was safe again from Loki and the Chitauri, Bruce decided he needed to set a date. Every moment his vital organs were functioning was a moment that he remembered of the people he'd killed, and he felt the guilt weigh heavily on his shoulders.

He needed time, though. There were loose ends he needed to tie up, and despite his self-loathing, he did acknowledge both that he was a genius and that the world would be better off if the Avengers, or at least Tony Stark, had his data. With a mind like Stark's, he felt no guilt at leaving them. There would barely be a dent in the knowledge they might lose. After a night of studying his notes, Tony would be as knowledgeable in gamma rays as he was, and could quickly surpass him. So he needed time to compile his notes, as it would take even the assembled Avengers at least a month to rummage between the helpful and the pointless data. The least he could do was to clean it up a little.

His serum was almost complete and it was only a matter of time before he broke again. He was proud of the Avengers but he knew that if he stayed he could, and probably would, destroy them. Just falling through the floor had nearly doomed Natasha, and the team was broken enough when Agent Coulson, who wasn't even technically an Avenger, was killed.

No, Bruce was a time bomb. He would not condemn those who he loved.

Five weeks, he decided. It was a good length of time. He knew the serum could be completed by then, and he could compile and condense his research. He even had time to try to enjoy the last of his time with the Avengers that were still around New York. Besides, he had been invited to stay with Tony in Stark Tower for the next month, giving him a week to spend back in Calcutta during which he could finalize the scientific notes that he would pass on to the Avengers Initiative. Finally, he would end the Hulk, and by extension, himself.

"Five weeks," he told himself, "And I won't have to worry killing the ones I care about. Five weeks and I'll be at some sort of peace."

Tony Stark, however, had entirely different plans for Dr. Bruce Banner.

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Thanks for reading! Reviews are wonderful, they fuel my writing! If people actually want me to, I'll update soon. Thanks! :3


	2. Chapter 2

Well. I'm not entirely sure how happy I am with this chapter, but I think it works. It's all a build-up to the good stuff, but important nonetheless. I'll be trying to keep updated regularly, every other day or so, but it's really hard to get stuff done with work and everything.

Thank you soooooo much to those who reviewed! Your comments made me smile. It basically made my day to get feedback.

Oh, and I still don't own the Avengers. Or RDJ. Or Fluffalo. *creys*

* * *

Tony Stark threw his arms up in the air in a grand gesture. "Welcome, Doctor Bruce Banner, to Stark Tower!"

Bruce looked up and coughed slightly.

"I know what you're thinking, big guy. Whoever built this must be trying to compensate for something."

"I really wasn't, I-"

"But I'd be happy to prove you wrong." Tony finished with a wink, leaving Bruce a little flushed. "State of the art electronics," he continued, "State of the art security. Stark Tower is built on clean, self-sustaining energy. And it has a damn good coffee maker."

Bruce nodded, rubbing his chin absent-mindedly. "Yeah, I've actually been here before."

Tony smiled, sliding an arm around Bruce's waist and propelling him forward. "I know," he said, walking him through the sliding doors, "But I thought you were entitled to a proper tour and introduction. I mean, at a time when you're not preoccupied with smashing a puny demi-god—who, by the way, has performance issues—into the cement."

Bruce blushed again and Tony raised an eyebrow.

"Well, uh, thanks for introducing me." He ended, weakly.

"Not a problem, big guy!"

Tony showed Bruce through the tower. They stopped in several dozen rooms, leaving hundreds yet untouched, and Bruce was almost tempted to ask for a map. There were labs; Tony's favourite, Tony's extra, Tony's super secret one. He pointed out a brilliant lab that he offered to Bruce, "So while you're away from your own stuff this month you can do all your badass science-y stuff here!"

Bruce thanked him graciously, and Tony grinned. "You have free reign of the place. Now. To the bar!" Tony marched off down a hallway and Bruce had not choice but to follow him.

Repairs were still underway. As Tony poured himself a drink and Bruce stood awkwardly looking around, he noticed that there was still a person-shaped depression in the floor. Tony noticed where his gaze had fallen.

"That. I think I need to immortalize that." He closed his eyes and smiled. "I really want to take out that hunk of concrete and hang it on my wall with a plaque: 'When the Hulk smashed Loki!'."

Bruce laughed nervously. "Yeah. Good thing it wasn't you."

Tony waved a hand, dismissing it. "You have more control over him than you think. The second time you changed during the battle, you only punched Thor a little bit and smashed a demi-god to a pulp. An _evil _demigod. _And, _most importantly, you caught me in mid-air, as the Hulk, and saved me from certain death. If the Hulk was just chaos, he wouldn't have taken the effort that it must have taken to launch himself among buildings and the self restraint it must have taken to grab me and not smash me. You kept me alive, Bruce."

Bruce looked up but not at Tony. He glanced anywhere but refused to meet his gaze. "I suppose you were the person who wanted the Hulk to emerge."

Tony shook his head, "I wouldn't say that."

"You were, though. You tried to provoke me to let the monster out… Sorry. I didn't mean it to sound that angry. I'm not…"

"No, that's not what I was doing." Tony reiterated, "I was trying to let you drop your guard a bit. You need to relax, Bruce. If you're ever going to control the creature, you need to get to know it. I wasn't trying to make you turn into an enormous green rage monster just because it's cool when things go 'boom'. I wanted to expose him so that you could find your own presence when he was in control."

Bruce stared at him for a moment. "I'm not sure that was your call to make."

Tony waved his hand again. "Well it worked, didn't it? I mean, the Hulk came out anyway, didn't he? AND he saved my life. So I think it's a square deal."

It was true. Tony had never actually triggered the Hulk. His attitude irritated Bruce a little, but he was right. The Hulk did save his life. Must have been a fluke.

"Okay, Tony."

Tony nodded. Then his expression turned more serious. "You know, Bruce. You really do have more control over it than you think. You were there when the Hulk saved me, and I think with a bit of practice, you could manipulate him.

The Hulk, in the back of Bruce's mind, growled. "I'm not sure that would be such a good thing to try out." Said Bruce, "I hope we'll never have to."

Tony sighed. "If only it were that easy."

They sat together in silence for a minute. " Well, do you want a nightcap? Scotch? Amaretto? Rum? Hot chocolate?"

Bruce laughed slightly. "I'm alright, thank you."

Tony smiled, and for a moment he looked sad. "Well I think I'll have one. Or two. I'll see you in the morning, Bruce. "

Bruce nodded and left the room. Only a few seconds later, though, and he was back in the doorway. "Uh, where..?"

"Down the hallway, to the left, third door on the right, down that corridor, and first door on your left."

Bruce smiled. "Goodnight Tony."

He quietly found his way to his room. This would be good, he thought; a good place to tie up loose ends. Every story needed a good ending, and even if the bits in between were horrible, maybe this could even be peaceful. He tucked himself into the (ridiculously expensive, no doubt) silky sheets. He instructed JARVIS to turn off the lights (which it did, instantly,) and he closed his eyes, trying to let sleep catch him.

It was minutes—hours even—before he felt himself start to doze, but just as his eyelids closed—and stayed closed—willingly, he heard something collide with his door. There was a soft thump and the sound of some shuffling before another louder thump and the light from the crack underneath the door shifted. Then, without a moment's notice, Tony stumbled in. The fumes of alcohol slowly drifted across the room to Bruce, who rolled his eyes, inhaled deeply and waited to see what the hell Tony Stark would do next.

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Aaaand, that's chapter 2. Thank you for reading. The next chapter will be up as soon as possible (hopefully by Thursday or sooner) and comments feed my soul. :3


	3. Chapter 3

Welp. Here chapter 3 is! I hope it's as good as you all wished!

Thank you all _soooooo_ much for reviewing. Every time I see a message telling me I have a review I do the dance of happiness*. I love you all dearly. OH, and Sir Stud Muffin, sorry I didn't have it up yesterday! :3 I hope this chapter's okay!

Seriously, though. When I start getting reviews, I worry that it's not going to be what people want. And then you'll send bilge snipe after me. It will just be a bad situation all around.

I still don't own Fluffalo (:3) or RDJ, nor do I own Bruce Banner or Tony Stark. Or any Marvel characters.

Enjoy!

* * *

Bruce called 'Lights!' as Tony stumbled in and JARVIS obliged immediately. This sudden brightness startled Tony, who, in a moment of surprise, launched himself towards Bruce's bed. Bruce tried to protest, but before he could form a coherent sentence, Tony Stark had lay down in bed next to Bruce and put an arm around him.

"Bruce-y boy!" Tony shouted exuberantly.

Bruce sighed. "I thought the point of a nightcap was to go to bed afterwards. Not to get completely smashed."

Tony shook his head. "More fun this way."

"Not for me," Bruce muttered.

Tony picked up on this. "Am I bothering you?" He asked, frowning.

Not really, Bruce thought. But he responded, "I was trying to sleep." _Any closeness is not a good thing_, Bruce thought. _There need to be no new emotional connections. Nothing to change my mind._

"I like you, Bruce." said Tony.

Great. No, he really didn't need anything to change his mind.

"You're drunk, Tony."

Tony sniffed loudly. "And? Drinking just gives me the confidence to say what I mean to say anyway! And this is the first time I've had a chance to get properly drunk since the Avengers temporarily disbanded. I think I deserve it."

"Okay." Maybe he did deserve it.

"And I do like you, Bruce."

"No you don't."

This riled Tony up. He sat up and looked straight at Bruce. "Yes I do. Why wouldn't I?"

Bruce laughed coldly. "I'm a science experiment, Tony. An experiment gone _wrong_. You find me interesting. You like what I am."

"I do."

"You don't like me."

Tony stared at him for a moment.

"I think you're mistaken."

"I think not. You like what I am and what I'm prone to do, but not who I am as a person. Just go to sleep, Tony."

Tony sat in silence for a moment. "You always look so sad," he said softly. His words were slightly slurred, but the statement surprised Bruce.

"I'm not." he replied, too quickly.

"You're always look so sad when you think I'm not looking. But I'm always looking."

"I'm fine."

"No you're not. What's wrong?"

Bruce drew in a breath in slowly before speaking again. "Nothing's wrong. You wouldn't understand."

"Aah, so you admit something's wrong!"

"That isn't what I said, Tony."

"I'm not sad, why would I be sad?"

"I don't know, you tell me!"

"I'm fine! Just drop it!"

"No!"

"Stop it!" Bruce was shouting now, and he could feel the other guy pressing forwards from the back of his mind.

"Okay. Don't tell me what it is. But don't tell me what isn't there."

"Tony-" Bruce gasped, "Please…"

Tony, even in the state he was in, realized what was going on. He could see the panic in Bruce's eyes. He had caused rage, the Hulk's main trigger. He had gone too far.

Bruce was shaking violently, the muscles on his neck growing, his skin turning green.

"JUST GO!" Bruce shouted!

But Tony had no intention of leaving. He had forced the Hulk out this time. And though he didn't believe the Hulk was actually truly bad, right here and right now were not the right time or place for him to be released. This was something Tony had to fix.

_Rage_, Tony thought, _grief, despair. These are what bring the Hulk out. But everything is a chemical reaction. How to counteract pain or fear, rage, grief or despair?_ And without another thought, Tony moved towards Bruce, grabbed his face, and kissed him hard on the lips.

Bruce emitted a muffled sound of surprise and his eyes opened wide. After a moment, though, he not only relaxed into the kiss; he responded to it. His pupils began to dilate. They lay there together kissing. It was probably only for a moment, but it felt as though the earth could twice have gone around the sun in that time. When they finally broke apart, Bruce's breathing was steady and even. He was fully himself. The other guy had been pushed to the back of his mind, farther than ever before. He could feel the whiskey Tony had been drinking on his lips.

"Endorphins!" shouted Tony. He appeared to be quite pleased with himself.

"Good to know," said Bruce, turning a bit pink and catching his breath, "If ever I'm turning at an inopportune moment, I'll just have someone kiss me, I guess."

Tony exhaled loudly before staring at Bruce. "You know. I understand if you never want to be kissed by me ever again… And if that is the case I will definitely respect your wishes… But if there's any chance you'd want to do that again…" He ended awkwardly, very out of character for the one and only Tony Stark.

Bruce rolled his eyes, but he felt strange. Tony Stark had been flustered. Flustered over _him_. And it was all mad. Like really, seriously mad. There was no way that any of this could end well.

But then again, it was ending in less than two months.

And hadn't Bruce planned to enjoy himself?

And Tony would be alright. He had swarms of men and women lined up to get with him. Bruce was obviously not someone special. The only person he could possibly be hurting was himself, and he knew that Tony could get away if he ever started to change.

Pressing his lips together, tasting Tony on them, he felt his stomach turn over.

"Alright." Bruce said finally. Simply.

Tony had been getting up off the bed (swaying slightly). "Wait, really?" He asked.

"Yeah." Bruce shrugged. "Why not."

Tony's eyes went wide. "Seriously?"

"Yes, Tony."

Tony launched himself back onto the bed and kissed Bruce again. Bruce felt Tony's want; the way he slid his tongue along the back of Bruce's teeth; the haste and the (delicious) sloppiness; the biting at his bottom lip. Tony tasted good and was (not surprisingly) a fantastic kisser. There was really no other way to describe it.

Their mouths found a rhythm and they kept going, exploring each other's mouths. It was only when Bruce felt Tony's hand sliding up his nightshirt that he pulled away.

"Not tonight, Tony," he murmured, "You're drunk."

Tony pulled back. "So some other night?" He winked.

Bruce flushed. "Well I haven't said no, have I?" _What was he even thinking?_

Tony nodded, grinning.

They lay there for a moment while Bruce drew himself back to reality. "I should really sleep, Tony." He said, after a minute.

Tony nodded. "I know. I should go to bed, too."

Tony leaned in and kissed him once more. Then, he got up off the bed and made to exit the room.

"Goodnight, Tony." Bruce said, quietly.

"Sleep well," Tony replied. He made his way out of the Bruce's room.

Bruce turned the lights off. _What are you doing?_ He asked himself. _Are you an idiot? How is this going to turn out well?_

He licked his lips again. The questions in his head died down, and he fell asleep with the taste of Tony Stark on his lips.

* * *

Whoo! Thank you for reading and reviewing! I'll be updating hopefully by tomorrow. At the very least it will be some time this weekend. :)

_*If you are not familiar with the dance of happiness, I suggest you acquaint yourself with the Mark Ruffalo Sesame Street video. It is available on Youtube._


	4. Chapter 4

Hi! Sorry. This is late. :(

Also, I feel that this chapter jumped around a bit more than I would have liked. And now it's 12:11 am. So I should probably sleep.  
Thank you for continuing to read and review! It always delights me to see such things!

I don't own Tony Stark. I don't own Bruce Banner. I do not own Marvel. And as I don't have Robert Downey Jr. and Mark Ruffalo locked up in my closet right now, you can be pretty damn sure I do not own them, either.

* * *

Through the night, horrific nightmares wrought havoc his sleep. It had to be the Hulk coming forward, emerging from the back of his mind and trying to make himself present.

Bruce's dreams had started off well enough. He had to admit; he'd been more than a little turned on by Tony and to say that he felt any need to suppress any fantasies in his head, he would definitely be lying. It took far more effort than he'd like to confess, telling Tony to stop. It was the right thing to do, though. Tony was drunk, and happened to be Bruce's only real friend right now. Maybe if he had been sober. Maybe if he had been sober and Bruce wasn't worried of killing him. If there was no question in which he thought too much and lost control.

It was the thinking. Everything thought Bruce had swum around in his head. The negative thoughts and feelings and emotions, they would always latch on. He would fixate on them and he knew it was just the manifestation of the Hulk (one more reason to get rid of them).

But the dream.

Bruce had been lying in bed. Tony had arrived, drunk, in his doorway. He came towards him, crawled on his bed, and kissed him as he had the night before. But Bruce hadn't asked him to leave.

In no time at all, Tony was straddling him. He had felt his hands up Bruce's chest, strong fingers memorizing his muscles. Slowly, his shirt was unbuttoned.

Somehow, before Bruce realized, he was now on top of Tony. They were both shirtless. Bruce lowered down to have his neck kissed and he could hear the near-inaudible hum of the arc reactor in Tony's chest, and feel the cold of the metal.

His tongue traced Tony's jawline but before they could get any further, Bruce felt the Hulk break his way forward through the calm of his mind.

It was a second. A split second and the Hulk was released. In another split second, Tony Stark was broken beneath him. Broken beyond repair.

Blood filled Bruce's vision. He had no control over the Hulk, but (unlike usual) he saw all that happened. Tony was limp in his bed, blood gathering and staining the sheets, Tony's usual smirk replaced with a look surprise, his eyebrow torn and his neck fatally twisted.

Bruce woke up in a cold sweat, tangled in sheets and glad that he was still present in his own mind. Despite the nightmare, he had not lost himself.

By the time he'd woken up, it was only half past seven. If Bruce knew Tony (which he wasn't sure he did at all) Tony wouldn't be up till at least ten a.m.

So Bruce went to make breakfast.

What he didn't expect to find was Tony Stark, brandishing a spatula, wearing a robe (which was very much _not_ closed), and fighting with some eggs in a cast-iron skillet.

Upon his arrival, Tony spun around, pointing his spatula like a weapon, and backed into the skillet, sending some of its contents flying.

"Gaaah!" Tony shouted, then dropped the spatula on his bare foot and swore loudly when he found it was still very hot. After jumping up and down for a moment, he relaxed.

"Bruce!" Tony said, happily, "Good morning!"

"Um." said Bruce. This is not what he'd been expecting.

"So," said Tony, diving straight in, "I've been thinking about last night and I need to know how you feel."

This was kind of a big question. For all of Bruce's intelligence, there was still a battle in his mind between sanity and primal instincts. Honestly, the way he felt right now was amazing. Tony was just standing there, with his robe hanging open, with morning stubble and a spatula in his hand. He looked perfect. Bruce hoped that he was keeping his mind in check and that it was the Hulk pressing from the back of his mind, influencing the thoughts pinning Tony hard to a wall and screwing him senseless.

Bruce wanted to say, "I like you," or "I want you." He knew that he should say, "This might be a bad idea," or "We can't be in any sort of relationship." But instead he said, "I won't be around long enough for this to work out. And besides, what about Pepper?" Bruce had almost forgotten about Pepper, but suddenly her name hit his mind and he sat in horror for a moment, wondering what he'd done. Had he really been in a romantic encounter with a man who was in a relationship? Was he the, so to speak, other woman?

Tony stared at him for a long moment before opening his mouth. "Pepper left me."

Bruce blinked a few times. "When?"

"Last week. After we got done saving the city. I got a call from her. She said there was too much stress in her life and I was only adding to it." He paused. "She's right, too."

Another pause.

"Wait, what do you mean you won't be around long enough for this to work out?"

Bruce had forgotten he'd said that. He barely even realized as he was saying it. "I, uh, just meant that I'll be back in Calcutta soon enough. And I don't think either of us are cut out for any sort of long distance relationship." He bullshitted his way through. It wasn't convincing.

Tony, for one, was certainly not impressed. "Bruce, do you remember when we were with the Avengers and you were talking about the cage built for…"

"Me?" Bruce asked, airily.

"For the big guy."

"What of it?" He asked, dryly.

"You said you put a bullet in your mouth."

Bruce shrunk in on himself a little. "I did say that."

"Do you want to die, Bruce?"

The question caught him by surprise.

Of course he did.

"No, why would I?" He asked. "That was a few years ago!" (It was a few months ago; Shield wasn't as good at tracking him as they thought they were.)

Tony studied him for a minute. "Well if you ever want to talk about anything…"

Bruce nodded.

"So, have you thought about us?"

Of course he had.

Bruce shook his head. "Can we just talk about this later?" he implored, "I'm starving."

Tony stared at him warily. Then he conjured up two plates and filled them with eggs.

"Okay, eat up." he said, passing a dish.

They ate, all the while reminiscing of some of the best times of the Avengers.

When Bruce went back to his room Tony summoned JARVIS.

"JARVIS, will you make a log of all the things Bruce is doing? Science-wise?"

"Right away, sir." Said JARVIS, immediately.

"Thank you," said Tony. "Oh, and one more thing! Look up warning signs of self-destruction. Make a note of every time Dr. Banner displays one."

"Will that be all, sir?" he asked.

There was one thing Tony knew; there was something very wrong with Bruce.

* * *

Yay, chapter 4! Oh, and I'm glad that those of you who commented enjoyed the Dance of Happiness. Fluffalo is just a perfect, perfect person. It gives me too many feels.

Reviews make me want to write more. :3 Thank you for being amazing!


	5. Chapter 5

Well. I'm a terrible person. I haven't updated in a week. BUT THIS ONE IS TWICE THE LENGTH OF ALL THE OTHER SO IT'S OKAY, RIGHT? O.o  
I've been really busy at work and then there was Pride and I've been really busy being frustrated at all of the attractive people ever so I have excuses, yes? Not really, but I can pretend.

Well, here's chapter five! Oh, and I totally wrote "Calcutta" before. It's supposed to be "Kolkata". So I've fixed it in this chapter.

**notice the rating change**

Also, this is my first attempt at smut. Like, ever. Please don't be too harsh on me! D:

AND THANK YOU AGAIN, FOREVER, AND ALWAYS FOR REVIEWING! I love you all.

(And if you want to see something Fluffalo-y, I would suggest The Kids Are All Right. It's pretty freaking awesome. I mean, he's arguably a huge douchebag in it, but he is in it. And he's sexy. And has sex.  
And as for RDJ, he's just fucking awesome. And there's plenty of shit of his to watch.)

I DO NOT OWN THE CHARACTERS OR THE ACTORS. (In case you didn't realize this.)

* * *

It was Friday. The third Friday that Banner had spent living at Stark Tower. Bruce had only one week left that he would be staying, and only two weeks of burdening the earth with his presence left.

Thank god.

He had been ignoring Tony.

And believe him, ignoring someone he was living with was not exactly easy.

Thankfully, Nick Fury had been using Tony as the face of an initiative to clean up the city. Stark was the most famous of the Avengers (except maybe Steve) and therefore found most of the (public) responsibility thrown upon his shoulders.

So Bruce spent most of his days locked up in his lab, perfecting the formula of that which would kill him, if all went to plan.

On this Friday, he had been thinking: He had been avoiding Tony, and he was surprised (and a little disappointed, though he should never admit to that) that Tony hadn't made any effort to ask why or demand his attention. Maybe he expected too much of the billionaire; operating under the assumption that Tony was a bit of an attention whore who couldn't stand being disregarded might be an overstatement.

Once he landed on the conclusion that he really wasn't more than a casual interest to Tony, he felt a little disenchanted, but also (on his logical side) relieved. For a short time he had worried that some sort of attachment was building between them but now it was clear; any emotions were felt only on his part. It was one-sided and nothing that he had to feel guilty about ending.

All the conclusions that he had drawn seemed satisfying and prudent.

Which is why he was shocked to see a seemingly livid Tony Stark barging through the glass doors of his borrowed lab.

Tony threw open the doors and stood wroth before him.

"Bruce! I don't get it, what have I done?" He shouted, "I've been giving you space in case this was too much too fast, but you said you would talk and not only have I been waiting, I've been tuned out."

"I-," Bruce stammered. He hadn't considered this variable. "I didn't think you wanted to talk about it anymore. I thought if you wanted to, you'd come see me."

It was, honestly, a stupid excuse.

"Again, Banner, _giving you your space!_" Tony's face was contorted into an expression of absolute despair. It made Bruce want to crumble.

"I'm sorry, Tony," he stared at his feet.

"I don't get it! Why the silent treatment?"

"I didn't think you'd want me!" Bruce fell silent. He'd said too much.

Tony stared at him. He had obviously been worried about Bruce, especially after the talk of his botched suicide attempt. And he'd looked up footage of the area in Kolkata in which Bruce had lived the past few years, carefully. There were three times that he'd slipped and hulked out, however, only one occurred less than a second after a gunshot. And it was four months ago.

The self-deprecating remarks on their own wouldn't be something to worry about. The lack of future planning could suggest that Banner was just an unorganized character. His withdrawn nature could simply indicate that he was an introvert. And the way he drew away from anyone that tried to get close to him might just make him a hermit. But all of these traits in conjunction scared the shit out of Tony, in addition to a recent suicide attempt, and now he found out that somehow he wasn't being welcoming enough or something like that and Bruce was avoiding him because he thought he didn't like it or maybe because some mistake had been made but whatever the reason, it didn't sit well with Tony. He had lost enough people that he'd cared about or that he thought cared about him but then turned out to be a douchebag who had ordered his execution or just some innocent person who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. And now his best (and currently only, apart from some of the other Avengers but they were only sort of friends, I mean, imagine going for shawarma with just Rogers, _blech, _and besides, Thor is not exactly in New York right now,) friend—who, for the record, had a really nice butt—had (according to JARVIS) a 96% chance of being suicidal.

And it was just after Tony realized how desperately he wanted to show Bruce that he _was_ wanted was that he also realized he'd been silent for a really long time now, thinking, and Bruce was probably feeling even shittier about himself, mistaking silence for criticism, and he needed to say something quickly to make everything okay but now words weren't coming to mind.

Why the fuck did he have to have such a big mouth if he couldn't think of what to say the _one_ time he actually _did_ need to say something?

Bruce apologized for speaking and looked somewhat like a puppy that'd just been kicked and started to turn away back to his research (which Tony hadn't yet figured out what it was but really needed to because Bruce was acting so strangely and if this was the only thing he was actually focused on right now it was probably really, really bad).

And Tony was losing his cool, desperately trying to figure out how to tell him not to ever apologize for speaking because he was honestly a fucking genius and in addition to that, he was most definitely wanted and he wouldn't know what to do now without Bruce because he's genuinely the only thing that's been on his mind for the past three weeks now.

Words failed him and instead he ran towards Bruce who was looking embarrassed and very unhappy (and green around the edges?), and before either one of them knew what was happening, Tony had grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and captured Bruce's lips with his own. Bruce was pressed between Tony and the his lab table and let out a half-strangled sound of surprise that quickly turned into a moan and Tony wasn't sure if Bruce was giving up on himself or what, but he not only surrendered into the kiss but seized Tony's lips back with an animalistic ferocity and Tony wondered if the Hulk was nearby.

Then he realized he didn't care.

And he also knew that he wanted Bruce desperately, if he would have him.

When Tony spoke again, he surprised himself at the tremor in his voice. "How far are you willing to go?" he asked.

Bruce gave him a calm, calculated look. There was a pause. Then, in a gravelly voice that Tony found so arousing he almost came right then and there; "There's nothing I wouldn't want to do anymore, Stark." He exhaled. "And as long as I avoid anger or stress, I'll do it."

Tony suppressed a shiver and stared at Bruce, eyes dilated. Then he leaned in and kissed him again, as no one had kissed him before.

His goatee rubbed against Bruce's scruff and it tasted of desperation and was urgent and then somehow he, Tony Stark, wasn't leading and instead it was Bruce Banner who was sliding the suit jacket off from Tony's shoulders and between kisses Tony silently cursed Fury for having him make a public appearance in which he had to get dressed up because it meant more clothing to get through but then again it _was_ more fun that way, and then he felt his head being pulled towards Banner by the tie around his neck and Bruce kissed sensitive skin behind his left ear and bit down a little which made Tony shudder and it was only a moment later that he felt Bruce's hands slide up his chest, un-tucking his dress shirt. Every motion was punctuated with a kiss from Bruce and then, without warning, Bruce ripped Tony's shirt open. The buttons flew off and scattered across the floor and Bruce helped the shirt off Tony's back before he started kissing and nipping at his collarbone.

Bruce had made a decision. Tony knew what he was getting himself into. He would, for these two weeks, enjoy himself unrestrained. Well. Still restrained; no hulking out. But maybe, just maybe, he owed it to himself to do something (or in this case someone) he really, really wanted.

So, leaving Tony speechless (which was no small feat) he took control. Now their positions had flipped and Tony was pressed against the table. Tony's shirt was off and Bruce was desperate to touch him. He lay kisses down his chest, pausing a moment to appreciate the arc reactor. Planting a kiss on the center of the device, and smiling to himself at the not-so-suppressed moans that Tony was uttering, he thought to himself; _may as well go all out. If I do something to embarrass myself or screw something up, I only have to deal with it for a little while. There's a way out._

And with that thought he grabbed for Tony's belt and undid it in one swift motion. Tony arched his back slightly and tilted his head back and Bruce slid his hand down the front of Tony's pants, feeling the trail of hair leading down to the prize. When he grasped him it was obvious that he was more than half-hard. He stroked him hard, leaving Tony shuddering

"Fuck, Bruce," he gasped. He grabbed the fabric of Bruce's t-shirt and canted his head even more. Bruce continued working on Tony, getting rougher every stroke.

"This-FUCK!-is too-JESUS!-slow," Tony gasped. Then he regained a tiny bit of his composure and reclaimed some of his Stark charm. "My turn," he growled, flipping their positions once more.

Now Bruce was pressed up against the lab table with Tony standing between his legs. The tremendous hand job that Bruce had been giving him was somewhat interrupted as they shifted and now Bruce ground against him through his jeans. It was intense and Tony was slick with pre-come and he had now decided that Bruce had had his fun and now it was the main event.

"Take it off," Tony demanded against Bruce's cheek and with a bit of shifting Bruce had slid his trousers and pants from underneath him and was sitting mostly naked with his legs apart on the table in front of Tony.

Tony took a moment to admire him. "Was it always this big even before the radiation?"

Bruce snorted.

"Jesus, though. I'm never going to be able to call you 'big guy' again without thinking about your monster dick."

"Great, Tony, thanks very-Mmph!" Tony had dropped to his knees and gone down on Bruce, taking as much of him in his mouth as he could without choking, and maybe a little bit more, Bruce thought absentmindedly, as Tony made a slight gagging sound before regaining his poise and _oh, fuck_ running his teeth along the underside of his dick.

Without much thought Bruce grabbed Tony's head and royally fucked his mouth. For the first few seconds, Tony gagged on the movement, but after a moment he demonstrated his somewhat vast experience and responded enthusiastically to each thrust.

"Fuck, Tony!" Bruce shouted, grabbing and pulling at his hair. This was Tony's cue. Bruce was close.

But he needed to hold off.

Tony pulled out of Bruce's grasp and before Bruce could protest, he had scrambled to his trousers and pulled out a condom.

Once Bruce saw it, he smiled. "Fuck me, Tony," he growled.

And who was Tony to deny him?

He bit the wrapping off the condom (which was apparently a bad thing to do but he wasn't going to bother with rules right now) and put it on.

Bruce prepared himself and hitched himself onto the edge of the table. His eyes looked glazed over as he stared at Tony.

"I need you," he whispered, "Now."

Tony paused a second. "Lube?"

"Forget it," Bruce murmured.

Tony's brows furrowed. "Are you serious? That's really going to hurt."

"Forget it!" Bruce said a little more firmly.

"Seriously, Bruce. It's going to hurt like a bitch in the morning. If you can even walk by then."

"I don't care."

Tony probably should have just said no right there and told him to wait a minute and he would be back in a second with lube but right now there wasn't enough blood in his brain to make a logical decision and Bruce was right there in front of him, legs apart, enormous dick hard as fuck, and so he went for it.

After a few seconds of uncomfortable shifting so as to get in the right position, Tony was at his entrance and with a short nod from Bruce, he pressed into him, hard.

Bruce let out a cry of pain that subsided after a split second (though Tony was certain the pain hadn't) and he asked Bruce if he was okay.

Bruce nodded. "Start-" he gasped, "Start moving."

Tony made a few tentative thrusts and Bruce winced a few times but then he got lost in the motion and Bruce started moaning and _sweet fucking CHRIST_ he could listen to that man's sex noises on repeat for the rest of his life. And so he grabbed Banners dick and stroked him with each thrust.

It was good and perfect in all its impromptu-ness and after not too long Tony could see that Bruce was close, thank god, because there was no way he could last much longer, and with a few last desperate thrusts, he came inside Bruce and Bruce followed only seconds later and shot come onto Tony's stomach, screaming his name.

It took a while for them to regain their breath but once they had relaxed a little Bruce got up off the table and Tony cleaned up a bit and they each gained a bit more composure. After a little bit Tony grabbed him by the waist and kissed him and then steered him over to a chair where they collapsed and cuddled and recovered from their mind-blowing sex.

"You know what, Banner?" Tony asked, "I'm going to miss you when you go back to Kolkata."

And for more than a fleeting second, curled up in the billionaire's arms, Bruce felt happy.

* * *

Well. That was that. Was it okay? Thank you for reading and reviewing! I still do the dance of happiness every time I see an email! :3  
Have a lovely evening.


	6. Chapter 6

I am very truly sorry for the wait for this chapter. I've been working 13 hour days when I'm only supposed to work 8 so I've not had time for anything besides work and sleeping.

However I will be done working in a week. AND I WILL HOPEFULLY HAVE MORE FIC UP BY THEN OR EVEN BEFORE.

Thank you for sticking with me, and thank you for all your wonderful reviews! This is getting close(r) to the end. Don't hold your breath, though.

I don't own, etc... ajksjflskfs

* * *

_Shit._

When Bruce awoke he was sore and any pheromones that may have been released after the events of the previous night had been erased.

_Shit._

He'd added one more loose end. And he couldn't tie it. In fact, it was like a hydra of loose ends. The first kiss split it in two; the next kiss in four. The next kisses and moans and fuck split the ends into thousands of broken pieces that couldn't be reconciled. This couldn't be resolved. This couldn't be tied off.

It had to be broken.

_Shit._

Tony must have moved him to the bed in the night, Bruce realized, because he hadn't recalled how they had gotten there. He stumbled from the bed, sliding from Tony's arms that had held him through the night. Tony rolled over slightly but showed no signs of waking. Bruce limped over to the clothing he had strewn across the floor, noticing he had a small amount of dried blood caked between his thighs.

_Done._

This wasn't going to work. There would be no confrontation. No goodbyes. No apologies. Bruce knew now that if he tried to leave, Tony would try to talk him out of it. And worse, he might even succeed. No, this had to be a clean break.

After pulling his trousers up and getting his shirt on and tucked in he stared at Tony for a moment. He didn't want to regret last night. And he wouldn't, as long as Tony didn't follow him.

The serum had been developed as far as it could through theory, skin samples, and some blood. All evidence suggested that it would be able to disarm and destroy the Hulk (and Bruce along with it, but that didn't matter).

_Gone._

Bruce knew it was only a matter of time before Tony got all the components of the serum from JARVIS. It was only a matter of time before he realized what Bruce was doing. And that time was essential. His plan needed to be enacted immediately.

He went to the lab and filled twelve vials with the serum. They were packed in a case with some syringes. Bruce organized all of his notes in a neat stack. Hopefully they would be of use to future generations for scientific discovery. _But,_ he knew, _he couldn't keep them where Tony would find them immediately._ So he filed them amongst some of Tony's bills. Which he would probably never look at. Pepper would find them and probably eventually pass them off to Tony.

Packing a small duffel bag (enough for two nights) Bruce gathered together what he needed and headed to the smallest of Tony's private jets.

He felt bad for stealing it, but there was nothing else he could do. He had the security passcode necessary and within twelve minutes a pilot had arrived with a crew of two others. Bruce explained that Mr. Stark had urgent business that needed to be done and after seeing Bruce's clearance card, no questions were asked and away he flew. Back to the outskirts of Kolkata, just so he could get a few of his papers sorted out.

As the plane lifted off he realized he desperately missed Tony.

And that meant he had gotten to comfortable endangering people.

That meant he had to do it.

* * *

_Cold._

When Tony woke up he was freezing. And his initial thought was that it was just because of the arc reactor cooling while he was asleep, as it was meant to, but then he realized it wasn't that.

The body he had held wasn't there.

Nor were the man's pants, his socks, his shirt. His shoes, too, were gone.

Bruce was gone. And there was a little bit of dried blood in the bed.

_Shit._

Tony shot up, his heartbeat racing. If he was right, which he probably was, something was wrong. Like, seriously wrong. And if something was seriously wrong and Bruce was involved, did that mean Bruce had set out to do what all the signs hinted at?

"JARVIS!" Tony shouted, "What's Bruce been working on?"

"A molecular compound, sir. Nothing that has been created before."

"What can it do?"

"It appears, sir, that it could cause instant heart failure to any person."

"Well, okay, but what's so special about it. Bruce is no regular person. JARVIS, if Dr. Banner were to administer this compound on himself, what would the results be?"

JARVIS paused for a moment, taking a calculated second to think.

_Panic._

"Dr. Banner would temporarily lose the ability to 'Hulk out', sir. It may even be capable of stopping his heart."

"Is this definite, JARVIS?" Tony couldn't breathe.

"Theoretical, sir."

"Probability?"

"96%, sir."

"Where is Dr. Banner now?"

Another momentary pause.

"Dr. Banner left the premises this morning at five twenty-one am."

Tony started getting dressed. "And where did he head?"

"Records show he headed to Kolkata in a private jet of yours, sir."

"And does he have any of that formula with him?"

"Yes sir, camera evidence would indicate that he does."

Tony took a deep breath. "Thank you JARVIS. I think it's time to suit up."

* * *

Thanks for continuing to review. Each review makes me want to write more. :3


	7. Chapter 7

Okay. I'm a terrible person. I have no excuses when it comes to how long this chapter took. Life and writers block just sort of caught up.

Two more chapters after this one, I think. Potentially subject to change, but WE SHALL SEE.

Thank you all so much for your reviews and comments and PMs. :) It's been really wonderful getting feedback and on all the days that I didn't feel like I could write, one little message helped encourage me, and that's what got me this chapter.

Nothing in this story is going quite as I planned when I first thought of it. I think this chapter may have gotten away from me a little. Sorry.

I do not own any of these characters. Otherwise they'd be in my room. Right now.

* * *

He was in Kolkata. All his research was in order. He was done. He even made a short note and left it on a counter, hoping that when someone—if someone—found him, they'd be able to get it back to the Avengers.

It felt right, symbolic even, when Bruce decided on the location: The abandoned house where he had met Agent Romanoff. It was where he became part of SHIELD's goings-on; when he realized that he hadn't been successful in hiding, that each the major organizations of the world knew his whereabouts and had the ability to reach him if they fancied the impulse. This is where he knew he was a time bomb. This is where he decided he couldn't live any longer.

It was perfect, too. It was secluded. On the outskirts of town. If he did hulk out, he might actually be able to come back down before he hurt anyone.

He took in his surroundings. There were chairs, tables, scrap everywhere; a painting of a Hindu goddess, and at the side of the room sat a cradle. God, he remembered that cradle. When Natasha had led him to the house. "I don't get always what I want," he'd murmured, swinging the cradle. Had she noticed? Would she have cared? He would have loved to have a child, to have a family. The thought of him around a child now, though. It made him physically ill. No, it was good he'd never have children. If he ever lost control, if he hurt a child, if he hurt a family… It was laughable, really to think like this now; too many "what if's". Unimportant at this point.

He pulled a chair to the centre of the room; more space on the off chance he broke. His heart was beating rapidly, but not out of control. Just a bit of adrenaline; nothing he couldn't handle. He took a gun from his duffle bag; one he'd been issued in for use in self-defense (as an alternate to hulking out) and put it in his jacket pocket, and the vials, and slid one into a syringe. Theoretically, it would only take one syringe. He had twelve. He pressed his thumb across the veins in his left arm, waiting until they rose. It was seconds before he was about to insert the needle in his vein when he heard something outside.

Was it local kids playing around the abandoned house? He couldn't start now. If he hulked out, he could kill them before he could kill himself. He put the syringe down, ready to investigate, to see if he could shoo them away.

Before he could stand up, Tony Stark burst through the door in full Iron Man garb. Instinctively, Bruce grabbed for the gun in his jacket.

Tony pulled the helmet up from his face, and Bruce saw he looked like shit. His eyes were bloodshot, and he winced as he stepped closer.

"Can't say I'm used to being the one night stand, Banner."

It was painful, physically painful, to hear that level of hurt in Tony's voice.

This wasn't meant to happen. Tony wasn't supposed to realize. Tony wasn't supposed to care. Tony was supposed to brush him off as a fling; as that scientist, those years ago, that one who subjected himself to the gamma radiation experiment that failed. That was all he was supposed to be.

"Sorry, Stark." Bruce needed to remain calm. He can't have gone to all this work and have it be for nothing. He can't endanger people any longer. "I would have stayed, but there was some, uh, urgent business I had to attend to."

"Oh," Tony was unconvinced. "And you couldn't even have left a note?"

"I did," It was sort of a sick joke, "You just didn't see it yet, I guess." _Oh, and it's actually right here, not at Stark tower. It's also a suicide note. _

"Let's stop dancing around this."

"Dancing around what?"

"Bruce! Just, please! I _know_ what you're doing, what you're planning to do! I _know_ that you think you're a time bomb! I know that you think we-_the Avengers_-are better off without you!"

There was a pause.

"So tell me an instance when that wasn't true."

"No, all of that, every shitty thought you're thinking about yourself, it's wrong. You're wrong-!"

"Yeah, Tony! I _know_ I'm wrong! I'm a laboratory experiment gone wrong! And now by just being a living, breathing, _emotional_ person I endanger everyone!"

"No, no you're not listening. You're wrong about yourself."

"How the hell would you know, Stark?"

"Because _I've _been there before!"

Bruce scoffed. "What, you turned yourself into a monster? You killed innocent people without realizing what you did while you were doing it?"

"No, I was a monster. Arguably still am."

Bruce raised his eyebrows.

"C'mon, Banner, it's not that difficult. I know you were detached, but Stark Industries weapons were global. I developed weapons. 'The weapon you only had to fire once', that was my biggest selling point. And I thought I was doing good, bringing conflicts to a halt without bringing absolute peace or anything like that, because I still needed to generate profit, until it turned out Obi was selling them to terrorist groups. Who killed lots and lots of people, and it was because of me."

"It's different- you couldn't have known."

"Yeah, like you know when you hulked out in the beginning? You do realize, though, Banner, that you haven't killed any innocent people since your first incidents? Through the battle with the Chitauri you killed bad guys, but no civilian got harmed by the other guy."

"That's not the point. What if I had lost control? I almost killed Natasha, Tony. What happens next time?"

"A couple years ago, a few months into my miniaturized arc reactor, I found that Palladium, which was the only substance I thought would sustain the function of the reactor. Unfortunately, it was also killing me. Palladium poisoning, nasty thing-"

"Yeah, and then you created a new compound, one that had never existed before, and saved yourself while also finding a way to generate clean energy for New York. I read the report."

"Jesus, Bruce, you don't get it! When I thought there was no way out—"

"No, YOU don't get it!"

"Oh, believe me, I do!" Tony had been getting closer and closer, and now Bruce was starting to get a bit green around the edges. "I thought I was dying, that I was useless, so I started doing stupid things. I started destroying myself, making a fool of myself, drinking myself half to death, getting in to potentially lethal battles with an angry Russian, going to bed with a different person every night…"

He and Bruce made eye contact and Tony looked down after a second.

"The point is," he continued, "Is that I know self-destructive behavior. Because I was there. And you need to know that whatever you think right now, if you think you deserve to die or whatever, you're wrong. I don't know, chemical imbalances, clinical depression, whatever it is fueling this, it's not okay and I want to help."

"Help?!" Banner snorted, "You think you can help me? Reverse what was done to me. Show me how. That's the only way that I can get better"

"I already told you, Bruce. The gamma exposure should have killed you, and yet, the Hulk saved you. Just like the arc reactor saved me. And I learned how to control it and it made me a better person."

"Sorry, but somehow a decidedly destructive dissociative identity that not only is angry as hell, it has a separate body, doesn't seem like it's going to make me a _better person_."

"The Hulk saved me, Bruce, and he's part of you, whether you like it or not. And you _can_ learn to control him, and I will fight for you to see this, that he's not bad and that you're not bad-"

It was like the walls were closing in. Everything he would never have, everything he could never have, it was like a separate plane of thought. Nothing was okay and his veins ached for release. Bruce was certain that Tony was still talking, but he wasn't listening. He found he had sat back down. How long, he wasn't sure, but the syringe had found its way into his hand. Had he grabbed it without realizing? But Tony, Tony was still talking, almost animated. Passionate about what he was saying, but it was almost as though he was detached, too. Tony was looking at his face, though, not his hands. And that gave him the second he needed. Only one syringe, that was all he could do before Tony would notice.

Tony kept talking, but it was almost as if Bruce had zoned out. God, Bruce. How could he not see what he was worth? I mean, if you just considered his intellectual value, which was astounding to begin with, but then to Tony. Just to Tony. He wasn't meant to fall in love with people, and he certainly hadn't intended it when he met Bruce. And honestly, what was love? But the chemistry, the biological reactions, and the way his heart raced when he stood in the same room, that was all there. Pupils dilated. And if even it was just for a selfish reason, he couldn't lose the scientist he had grown to care for. And—FUCK.

"Bruce! What are you-!?"

He should have paid attention to the things that matter. Because he was too fixated on trying to blurt out some bullshit about how he's totally worth it, which isn't bullshit because it isn't the truth, cos it is, but because no one contemplating suicide actually gives two shits as to how much they're 'worth', and now he missed it when Bruce Banner stuck a fucking needle into his arm and emptied the syringe into his bloodstream.

Tony ran towards Bruce, but he was faster, and had a gun pointed at him.

"What are you going to do, Bruce? Shoot me if I try to save you?"

Bruce didn't know what was going to happen. Would the one vial be enough to stop the other guy? Was it worth trying? Would his heart stop, regardless? Tony was getting closer. He didn't have time to find out. He didn't notice he was crying.

"No." He murmured.

He put the gun in his mouth. He pulled the trigger.

Tony shrieked.

The other guy didn't spit out the bullet.

* * *

WELL let's see. Do you hate me yet? Thank you all for your reviews! I love you!


	8. Chapter 8

Hehehe. I'm sorry, that was mean. Don't worry, this chapter is better.

THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR LOVELY REVIEWS. I love you.

Oh, and I still don't own characters or actors. But I do continue to do the Dance of Happiness.

* * *

Tony had been around hospital rooms enough in his life. He hated the white. Everything was sterile, unfeeling. The smells of medical supplies were enough to do his head in, and he was surprised that he could even stand being there at all.

But the man he was there for made it worth it.

Even if he hadn't woken up yet. Even if he'd been waiting three days, so far.

Tony didn't believe in God, at least not the conventional sort. He certainly didn't deny that Thor was real, for example. He once lost an arm wrestling match with him, while suited up, so any doubts about the legitimacy of Norse gods were nonexistent. And he didn't think that any deities were watching over him or anyone else. Pop tarts, tiny kittens, and viral videos, for example, entertained Thor. He, for one, wasn't exactly spending his time guiding humanity towards a brighter future.

And it wasn't a god that saved Bruce Banner. But if it gave Tony Stark some more karma points or something, he sure as hell would thank Jesus for that one.

* * *

The one vial didn't _stop_ the other guy from coming out. It just stinted him a little. When Bruce had pulled the trigger, the Hulk came out, but just a little slowly. The explosion had dislocated Bruce's jaw but in the split second before it could penetrate his skull and tear through his brain, the Hulk came forth, but not in his entirety. It was like Bruce had half-transformed: he still looked like himself but he had grown by a quarter of his regular height and was rather green. As it turned out, the Hulk's skin was able to stop the bullet, for the most part. It certainly stopped him from dying instantly, but left a wound, which had knocked Bruce/The Hulk out instantly.

Tony stood there, half in shock, half in relief (because he could see that Bruce was definitely alive but did just witness his best friend/lover/whatever the hell they were stick a gun in his mouth and pull the trigger). He could panic later, though. He knew a desperate situation when he saw one. It took him only a moment to put his helmet back on and talk to Jarvis.

"Jarvis? Get SHIELD on the line, NOW!"

"Right away, sir." The AI responded.

After thirty long seconds of waiting, he had Fury on the line.

"Stark. It is four-thirty in the morning. _What_ could you _possibly_ need?"

"Fury, it's Dr. Banner. I need emergency medical attention in Kolkata!"

"Banner? Did he lose control again? I trace no Gamma flux-"

Tony wished he could be clearer without saying anything. Why were they taking so long to care? Didn't they understand the situation?

"Fury, Banner just shot himself. He _took_ something to stop him from _hulking out_ and he's _here! _He's _bleeding, _Fury!"

There was a momentary pause. "Okay, I'll track your coordinates, get a local emergency service to make sure he's stabilized. SHIELD agents will transport him back to New York as soon as they can get to Kolkata. How badly is he injured?"

"I don't know." Tony looked over Bruce's body. He had shrunk back to normal size and was crumpled in a small heap on the floor. He looked tiny, his jaw was shifted oddly, and blood was flowing from his mouth, but there wasn't enough of it for Tony to be immediately worried about death from blood loss. And he was still breathing. "He's alive, and I think he'll be okay if he gets medical attention soon."

Fury mhmm'd a sound of approval. "I'll see you soon, Stark," he said, and the comm switched off.

Time progressed both very slowly and very quickly at the same time. Tony remembered elevating Bruce's head and legs, so he would be able to keep breathing, while his blood would stay circulating.

After both forever and no time at all an ambulance picked Bruce up. Entertained by him being Iron Man, they let Tony ride along (which was good, because he wouldn't have taken no as an answer, anyway). Bruce was hooked up to a number of machines that were apparently sustaining his life, but he looked tiny. Tony watched him as he rested.

After several hours of hearing the constant beeping of the heart monitor he wondered how long it would be until SHIELD agents actually arrived, or if they ever would at all. Natasha and Clint took this moment of doubt to walk through the door.

Tony was startled. "Fury put you two on this one?"

Natasha glared. "We wouldn't have it any other way." She ushered to what turned out to be a couple more medics outside the room who started wheeling in a gurney and shifting Bruce over.

Clint nodded. "We heard over the comms what happened. Bruce is our friend. We're the best SHIELD has now, and we weren't going to let any other idiots collect him."

And so that was that.

* * *

They flew him back to a new (and fully intact) helicarrier and there, medics started treating him. Fury, and Tony for that matter, didn't want him in a regular hospital. There were always the crazies that would try to hoard his blood for covert operations, and then plenty that would still be afraid of him. They wanted doctors that were familiar with Bruce Banner and could be trusted completely.

Bruce got a room to himself, it being neither a conventional hospital nor he being a conventional patient, and that helped Tony feel less awkward staying there all the time. The room was surrounded with flowers, cards, and gifts. It had gotten around SHIELD that Bruce Banner was in hospital and, as it turned out, was thought of fondly by many an agent. Clint and Natasha each had brought huge bouquets, as did Steve. Tony himself had gotten Bruce an obnoxious bouquet with stupid heart balloons scattered throughout. Thor, who was currently on Earth visiting Jane, had left a few pages of particularly unintelligible poetry that somewhat translated to a "get well soon" card. And then there were other notes and flowers and cards from SHIELD agents Tony'd never met. One card in particular caught Tony's eye. It was from a Betty Ross. "Get better soon, Bruce. Know I'm here if you need to talk."

That was nice, thought Tony. He was genuinely please that there were people who had taken a liking to Bruce that cared how he was doing.

On the fourth day of waiting (Bruce had a number of drugs being pumped into his system that were keeping him somewhat sedated, though there was a possibility at any time that he could wake up), it seemed Bruce was recovering well. Several days ago, his jaw had been realigned. It wasn't so bad that it needed to be wired shut, and as it turned out, the Hulk part of him was healing him rapidly. The partial open wound was barely more than a bruise. And considering he'd been waiting four days, Tony decided it was time to take a shower. He'd barely left Bruce's room since he'd arrived.

An hour later, clean, and considerably better smelling, Tony returned. He hadn't expected to find Bruce propped up in bed, eyeing the room groggily.

Tony smiled at him and sat down. "Hey, babe. How you doing?"

Bruce blinked a few times. "Where am I?" he asked, before wincing.

"Sorry! I forgot. Jaw. You dislocated it. It'll be fine but I expect it'll be a bit painful. Try to move it as little as possible." Tony paused slightly. It was probably stupid to tell a doctor how to take care of himself. "Oh. And you're on a helicarrier. Thought it was best to keep you away from regular hospitals."

Bruce raised an eyebrow. This time when he spoke, he spoke more carefully. "What, in case I got angry and killed everyone?"

"Nope," Tony smiled. "Because your case is unique and we wanted only the best taking care of you."

Bruce closed his eyes slowly and grimaced. "Well, from this conversation we're having, I gather I'm alive. Isn't this the bit where you're supposed to be crying and asking me why I did it and telling me you can get me help, all punctuated by awkward, painful silences?"

Tony shook his head. "Yeah, you're alive, but I don't see why now wouldn't be a good time for me to instead tell you I love you and maybe cuddle you a bit. Oh, and ask if you want cake. I think I can order in cake."

Bruce stared at him blankly. "You love me?"

Tony brushed it off. "I know why you did it." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "I know why you think you needed to. I don't think it's right, and I don't think you're right, but I'm happy you're alive and maybe at some point you will be, too. But I think it's pointless to guilt trip you and make you feel like shit, cos if I'm right, which I almost always am, you already feel pretty shitty."

Bruce was still for a while, but then nodded. "Okay, Tony."

Tony smiled. "Okay."

* * *

Aww. Things are getting better for the boys.

And I have no intention of actually bringing Betty Ross into the story, I just felt she should get a namedrop.

The next chapter may be a few days because it's a little bit difficult knowing where to go from here. BUT. Expect at least one more chapter, and probably an epilogue. :3

Thank you!


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